


to save me, to save me (to save me, to save me, to save me)

by alienjack



Series: qrangst [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Atlas Is A Frat AU, Car Accidents, M/M, Multi, Underage Drinking, but they still have semblances, not as angsty as it could have been
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjack/pseuds/alienjack
Summary: When he’s drunk he’s happy, and when he’s happy, his Semblance is less likely to lash out.Qrow hates his Semblance: all it does is hurt people. He has long since accepted the fact that if he gets too close, bad things happen.“It’s not like everyone else is born knowing exactly how to use their Semblances. The fact that you won’t even acknowledge it shows that you’re at the same level as a two-year-old.”Too bad he's surrounded by people who love him. They might just force him out of being miserable-- as long as nothing unfortunate happens along the way.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & Raven Branwen, Qrow Branwen & Summer Rose, Qrow Branwen & Taiyang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood, some minor background poly str
Series: qrangst [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564252
Comments: 20
Kudos: 123





	1. walking disaster

**Author's Note:**

> title from Walking Disaster by Sum 41 :,)
> 
> what's a better way to write drunk college students than to be a drunk college student, u know?
> 
> shout-out to the tumblr gc for letting me Angst about qrow dealing with his semblance at a younger age, pre-cynical-adulthood. this isn't quite it, but it's still qrangst

Qrow is nineteen, and he’s very drunk. He has been drunk for the past hour. (More specifically, he has been drunk at least three days per week for the past two years. Since coming to college, that has increased exponentially. No one talks about it. They probably should.)

Taiyang and Raven are making out in the kitchen. Qrow is trying not to notice them while he dumps more Smirnoff Sour into his cup. He’s pretty sure Raven and Summer had been making out earlier. Mostly he just doesn’t want to see or think about Raven making out with anyone, but he knows better than to hope like that. On the back patio, Summer is currently destroying anyone who tries to beat her at beer pong. Qrow tried, once, when they were eighteen. It was bad.

But things aren’t bad now! When he’s drunk, he can’t even  _ feel _ his Semblance. It might still flare up, and he might have even less control now, but then it’s not even his fault. And when he’s drunk he has to focus on standing up instead of dwelling on any of the terrible things that plague him when he’s sober: His mom. The constant switching schools until he finally got free. Old bruises, old blood, old friends. Secrets.

He’s drunk. He’s not dwelling on these things. When he’s drunk he’s happy, and when he’s happy, his Semblance is less likely to lash out.

He wanders back through the living room to the patio where the beer pong is set up. The mid-October air is starting to chill, but Qrow is warm with alcohol, so he hardly notices. It’s certainly a relief from the overheated pack of people inside. Summer rocks on the balls of her feet, poised and cocky, ping pong ball in hand. She sinks it into the second-to-last cup.

Someone is standing next to him. Qrow turns, in the too-slow way of being too drunk (not drunk enough), and finds himself having to tilt his head up to smile.

“Hi, Jimmy.”

“How’s Summer’s winning streak?”

“Going strong. She just beat Willow Schnee, but I dunno who this guy is. One of yours?”

James hums. He’s not wearing his frat letters, but everyone knows who he is even without them. He’s the tallest person at the party, and one of the tallest on campus period. Even if you don’t know who he is, you recognize him. If you do know who he is, you know he’s the current president of Alpha Tau Lambda, the most prestigious frat on campus. Qrow makes fun of him regularly for this, but it also means that Qrow gets invited to every single party that happens in the frat community.

James takes the cup from Qrow and takes a sip, making a face. Qrow takes his cup back, smirking. It doesn’t have any mixers in it, which James obviously wasn’t expecting.

“Besides,” says Qrow, “she’s our DD. She better not lose.”

In response, James takes Qrow’s cup again and takes a long pull, and Qrow laughs, a sharp cackle that ends with a snort.

“I’m surprised this isn’t whiskey,” James muses, handing what’s left of the vodka back.

“Whiskey’s all gone already.”

“Of course.”

“So’re all the mixers.”

James  _ tsk _ ’s. “No one ever buys enough mixers.”

Qrow finishes the vodka. He doesn’t know how many cups this is, or its equivalence in shots. But he’s still pleasantly struggling to stand upright, especially with Very Tall Jimmy next to him. He settles on slumping against James, which is easier than looking up at him, and watches the beer pong game with bleary eyes. James is very warm. It’s nice.

Summer has one cup left to beat this frat guy. She’ll win—she always does.

Qrow notices the shift in his mood when he suddenly realizes that James’s hand is on his shoulder, trying to pull Qrow more upright.

“Hey, are you okay?” James is asking, but things are getting too blurry—

Summer misses her shot, exclaiming in frustration, just as the sound of shattering glass comes from inside, and someone else yelps in pain, and then Qrow vomits on James’s shoes.

Just his luck.

“I’m taking you upstairs to lay down,” James says. Qrow thinks that’s what he says, at least. When he blinks, they’re in one of the frathouse’s upstairs bathrooms, and he’s looking at porcelain.

“Is teleportation your Semblance?” Qrow asks, bleary.

“No,” James laughs, rubbing Qrow’s back. “You’re just very drunk. I carried you up the stairs like a normal person.”

“A  _ buff _ normal person,” Qrow mumbles, leaning into the touch. “Are you going to leave?”

“Why would I do that?”

Qrow vomits again. At least this time it’s in the toilet.

  * >•



Raven is the only one who knows. Well, a couple professors do, too. The ones who need to know Semblances for class relevancy. He hasn’t even told Summer or Tai, can’t bring himself to. Mostly he says he doesn’t know, doesn’t have one, doesn’t have one that really does much. Avoids the topic.

He had almost told James, once. Back last year, when things were easy and not stilted and he had been so  _ overwhelmed _ with how he felt being around James.

They’d been at a party, of course. Alone in the hallway. Qrow was drunk but not the drunkest he knew he could be, and James was reaching for him, trying, saying he  _ wanted _ to try—Qrow wanted, too. He had never  _ wanted _ the way he wanted James.

“But I can’t,” Qrow had growled, pulling away and curling in on himself.

“I don’t understand  _ why,” _ James had said, the farthest from composed that Qrow had ever heard him, has ever heard him since.

“Something bad will happen.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m—I’ve got bad luck, Jimmy. I just know.”

“The past doesn’t have to control the future.”

Qrow had looked at him, distraught. How was he supposed to explain? How could he?

“For me, it does. Just trust me, Jim. It’ll just be bad, and I’m not willing to do that to you. Please. Let it go.”

Glass broke in the kitchen. People started yelling, the sound of punches landing. Qrow closed his eyes and sighed.

  * >•



“If you would just accept it and put effort into actually controlling it, you could make it useful,” Raven snaps.

Qrow is too hungover for this conversation.

She barrels on. “It’s not like everyone else is born knowing exactly how to use their Semblances. The fact that you won’t even acknowledge it shows that you’re at the same level as a two-year-old.”

“Insulting me isn’t going to make me decide this is worth the risk,” Qrow grumbles.

“Insult, or an observation?” Raven counters. “Get yourself together, Qrow. You’re an adult now. At the very least learn how to meditate. You don’t get to be incompetent forever.”

  * >•



“Sorry,” Qrow says, nervously chuckling as Summer helps him to his feet.

“It’s not like you did anything!” she says, waving his apology away with her hand. “You apologize too much. I know crows are unlucky or whatever, but you’re not actually a bird, as much as you walk like one,” she teases. “There’s nothing wrong with being clumsy.”

Qrow smiles, just a second, before the expression drops. “Summer…”

He’s known her for two years now, knows that she’ll most likely be in his life forever from here on out, especially if Raven has any say in it.

She turns those big silver eyes on him, head cocked curiously. Her eyes reflect the cool, late-October clouds above them. Qrow misses the sun, just a little bit.

“It  _ is _ my fault.”

“Don’t be silly—”

“It  _ is! _ Misfortune. That’s… that’s my Semblance. Bad luck.”

He isn’t expecting her to launch herself at him, to squeeze the life out of him in a hug. Then he realizes that, because this is  _ Summer, _ he should’ve known this would be her reaction.

“I’m trying to work on it,” he says, squeezing her back. Raven has been helping him with it: meditating, focusing, sparring.

“I believe you.”

“It’s easier when I’m—” he starts, then bites his lip and turns his head.

“I know,” she says, all soft and kind and loving. “I know.”

  * >•



He’s starting to see it now. When he sparrs with Raven, he notices the uneven ground, the loose branches overhead. He can’t really control which one of the two of them will trip, get hit, but the awareness at all is a step forward. When he falls, he sees it coming and can brace himself. Raven has started dividing her attention between Qrow and the environment in a way that makes her easier to hit.

She almost smiles at him when her hair gets tangled in the thorns of the bush he shoved her into. Then she yanks herself forward, sword already raised again.

  * >•



“You’re not as drunk as usual.”

“Shut up, James.” But Qrow is smiling, just a little. Smiling enough to say, with only the barest hesitation, “Maybe still drunk enough that I’ll need someone to walk me home.”

Summer knows. Summer  _ knows, _ and he’s learning  _ control, _ and maybe that means that he and James can finally  _ be. _

He sees James’s jaw twitch. He can’t tell if it’s a smile or a frown. “Is that so?”

Qrow shrugs, focusing his gaze on the whiskey in his plastic cup.

“Qrow…” James sighs. The jaw twitch had been a frown, then.

Qrow throws back the rest of his whiskey. “Gonna go refill this,” he mumbles, shoving his way back to the kitchen. Summer and Taiyang are making out against the sink. Qrow sighs, finds the whiskey bottle, and pours what’s left into his cup.

He thinks about just avoiding James for the rest of the party. The guy’s got enough frat brothers here to occupy his attention. Qrow doesn’t, though. And he knows better than to think James prefers anyone else’s company to Qrow’s, as arrogant as it feels to think. So Qrow goes back to the couch, finds James sitting where Qrow had been, and sits on the arm of the couch right next to James.

“Whiskey?” he offers, a peace treaty to ease the tension.

James takes it, only sips it slightly, and hands it back. Qrow feels mildly forgiven.

James does walk him home afterward, helps him up the metal staircase of Qrow’s apartment building and all the way to his front door.

“You could stay,” Qrow blurts. “I know I… in the past… but, you could. If you want.”

Oh no. James looks  _ sad. I’m getting better! _ Qrow wants to scream.

“You’re the king of mixed signals, Qrow,” he says so softly that Qrow feels like he’s been punched. “You know what I want, and I know what you want, too, but you keep pushing me away, then pulling me right back in.”

“I’m not pushing you away right now, though.”  _ I’m getting better! I’m getting better. _

“Goodnight, Qrow.”

James walks away into the November chill.

“Happy Halloween, Jim.”

Qrow slinks into his empty, cold apartment alone. He doesn’t know where Raven is, but the whole place is dark, and no lights are coming from the crack under her door.

He should’ve told James. Then he would’ve understood why Qrow can’t be close, can’t…

  * >•



James Ironwood is in the Intensive Care Unit. James Ironwood is in the Intensive Care Unit. James Ironwood— _ Jimmy. Jimmy is in the hospital. _

Qrow knows it’s his fault. He wasn’t anywhere near the accident, but Jimmy had been walking home from Qrow’s apartment, hadn’t just stayed the night because Qrow had pushed him away too many times, wouldn’t have been anywhere near the road if it wasn’t for Qrow—

Raven glares at her twin. This is the third time the kitchen sink has had water explode from the faucet today. Qrow hardly notices: he’s curled up on the couch, eyes glued to his phone, waiting. All the lights flicker and then go out completely. Their fire alarm has gone off twice, so Raven took the batteries out just in case it goes off again.

The fire alarm starts going off again.

“Qrow,” she snaps. “Get a grip. He’ll be fine.”

Qrow doesn’t look at her. He does stand up, finally, but it’s to go to the freezer and grab the Smirnoff shoved into the back. He takes it and retreats to his bedroom.

Raven stabs the fire alarm. It keeps going.

When Qrow steps out of his bedroom again, vodka bottle empty, the fire alarm finally stops. The sink isn’t spitting anymore. The power is still out, though. Qrow takes the six-pack of Taiyang’s beer and goes back into his solitude.


	2. wouldn't miss it for the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the fix-it fluff

Jacques Gelé takes over as president of Alpha Tau Lambda until James finishes recovering. Apparently, it’ll be at least until the end of the semester.

Qrow sleeps through his alarm the next time he has an exam. He keeps missing the bus even when he wakes up on time. Summer’s car has a flat tire. Raven hasn’t had a matching pair of socks in three weeks. When Tai’s final project for his woodworking class spontaneously combusts while taking it to class, Raven comes home and slaps Qrow.

“I told you to get yourself together,” she snaps.

Tai puts a hand on Raven’s shoulder. “Hey, it was just my Semblance being weird! Why would it have anything to do with—”

Raven turns and stares at him, hard. Tai drops his hand from her shoulder, looks to Qrow. Qrow stares at the floor.

Tai crosses his arms. “You guys aren’t telling me something.”

“You would already know, if I had any say in it,” Raven says, crossing her arms in mirror of him.

Qrow goes for the fridge. Raven doesn’t stop him, because she knows that all the alcohol in the house is gone now. When Qrow realizes this, he sighs and turns back to them. “I’m bad luck,” he says, frowning but looking Tai in the eyes. “Misfortune. That’s my Semblance.”

“And you finally were actually putting effort into figuring it out before Ironwood got in his accident and you decided it was your fault,” Raven supplies, annoyance sharp in her voice.

Tai squints at the twins, scrutinizing them. “What, so just because Qrow sleeps through his alarm sometimes, we excuse it with his Semblance? Just because my project caught on fire—which is, as we all know, a possibility with my  _ own _ Semblance—it’s his fault? What, is it really so powerful as to reach me all the way across town? Is it so powerful that it followed Ironwood home the night of his accident?”

Neither Raven nor Qrow have a response.

“Sometimes shitty things happen,” Tai continues. “Maybe your Semblance is pretty passive, but you’d be able to feel it draining you if  _ all _ of these things were  _ actually _ your fault.”

Qrow shrugs.

“Raven said you’d been working on controlling it, right? So, what does it feel like when you’re in control?”

“I’ve never  _ controlled _ it,” Qrow snarls in a moment of angry defiance. His shoulders immediately slump back into a defeated slouch. “I don’t know… When I’m aware of it, I guess, I notice things that could go wrong. Uneven ground, loose tree branches, an incoming gust of wind. Once I think I might’ve caused some mud to appear while Raven and I were sparring? She slipped. It hadn’t been there before.”

Tai raises an eyebrow and gestures for Qrow to continue.

He sighs. “I guess, when I’m actually thinking about my Semblance, I can feel it. But it’s also passive. When my mood drops, bad things happen. Maybe not sleeping through my alarm, but—”

“The sink exploding, the fire alarms going off even after I take out the batteries, the power outages,” Raven ticks off on her fingers.

“Glass tends to break at every party I go to,” Qrow continues. “There’s never enough mixers—”

“Okay, but  _ no one _ ever buys enough mixers,” Tai interjects.

“He has a point,” Raven concedes.

Qrow sighs again, so deeply that his whole torso lifts and drops several inches with his slouch. “Okay, fine. Maybe not every single bad thing that happens is my fault. But,” he says, pointing aggressively at Tai, “that doesn’t change the fact that my Semblance is Murphy's Law, and there’s a high probability that these things  _ are, _ actually, my fault.”

Tai puts a hand on Qrow’s shoulder and gives Qrow one of those impossibly hopeful and kind expressions. “James’s accident?”

Qrow bites the inside of his cheek, frowning. Raven levels him with a glare.

“...probably not my fault. Directly.”

_ “Qrow.” _

  * >•



It snowed last night. Qrow glares at the slate-gray January sky. Almost February. Three months since he’s seen James, who hasn’t actually come back for the spring semester, as the original rumor had said. He still has intensive physical therapy, according to Jacques, when Qrow had cornered the guy for information in the first week of the spring semester. Won’t be coming back to the university until next August. Taking online classes for now, but definitely not a full-time student anymore.

Despite all that, James had finally called Qrow a few days ago, had invited Qrow to come out and see him.

As Qrow walks up the gravel path to the porch of the grand, white Ironwood farmhouse, he wonders if this is a good idea. He’d been so desperate to hear that James would be okay, the guilt crashing over him in waves (“Not your fault!” Taiyang’s voice yells in his head), that Qrow had immediately agreed to whatever James wanted. So here he is, stepping up the frost-covered porch steps. He’s never met Jimmy’s parents before, but the guy certainly wasn’t staying in the frathouse while recovering.

What if he breaks something? What if their power goes out because of him? What if James gets hurt again because Qrow is there?

Qrow rings the doorbell. A tall (tall, tall,  _ tall) _ gray-haired woman opens the door. For all her height, she has a narrow build, a boxy torso, like she’d look best in a 1920s flapper dress.

“You must be Qrow!” she smiles, and any air of intimidation is gone with the warmth of her voice. “Come on in, sweetheart.”

She leads him to the back of the house, knocks on a door. “James,” she calls. “Your friend is here.”

Qrow feels like a seven-year-old on a play-date. It’s unnerving.

He can practically hear the eye-roll in James’s voice when he calls back, “Okay, let him in, thank you!”

Mrs. Ironwood gives Qrow a near smirk of a smile, then disappears to another area of the house. Hesitantly, Qrow pushes the door open and steps into James’s childhood bedroom.

No details about the accident had been released, besides the fact that a car had spun off the road into the sidewalk, had pinned “a student” against a nearby building. The car had been totalled, but the driver alive. Somehow, the student lived, too.

James is sitting at his desk, small rectangular reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, typing away on his laptop. When Qrow pulls the door shut behind him, the click of the latch seems too loud. James closes his laptop without looking over, takes off his glasses.

He finally turns to look at Qrow. He's just in sweatpants, torso exposed.

“Jesus, Jimmy,” Qrow breathes.

James doesn’t look down at himself. He’s already too aware of where the metal meets his skin down the center of his chest, the bulk of his metal right arm, the ramrod straightness of his spine where it had to be reinforced with more metal. His metal right foot is exposed, too. He had wanted Qrow to see, because if Qrow could be okay then James thinks that he can be okay, too.

“Not too scary, right?” James says, trying to laugh. The sound falls flat. Qrow is still standing in the doorway. “Will you please come in? Sit down? I kind of need some normal right now,” James admits quietly.

Qrow releases a long, slow breath and crosses the room to sit on Jimmy’s bed.

“Jacques should never be allowed to be a frat president, ever,” Qrow finally says after the silence has stretched on a bit longer. “I feel like I can’t walk three feet across campus without seeing some kind of advertisement or fundraiser or marketing campaign from him.”

This time, James’s laugh is genuine.

“I mean, c’mon, we get that the dude is a business major,” Qrow carries on, flopping backward on the duvet. “But does he really have to be so obnoxious? Also, I haven’t been invited to a single party since you went off the radar. I think he blacklisted me from all frat events.” Qrow backpedals immediately, trying to save face, saying, “Which is fine, whatever! I don’t give a fuck about stupid frat boys anyway.”

James sits on the bed next to him, and the mattress dips so deeply that Qrow slides down against his leg. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Stupid frat boys.”

Qrow swallows. “James…”

“Oh boy, now I know this is gonna be something serious,” he teases.

Qrow grins and smacks him, which is a bad idea because  _ metal torso, okay! _ and says, “Hey, I  _ am _ being serious!”

“Okay, okay. Serious face.” James schools his expression to complete focus. “I’m listening.”

Qrow shakes his head, grin fading as his chest tightens. “Do you want to know what my Semblance is?” he asks, finally turning his red eyes to James’s face.

James returns the stare, coolness unwavering. “Do you want to tell me?”

“I think I should, in light of.” Qrow gestures, vaguely, in the air. James just raises an eyebrow. Qrow sighs. “Tai keeps telling me that the accident wasn’t my fault.”

“How could it be?” James responds immediately, concern etched in the wrinkles on his forehead. “Of course it’s not your fault.”

“James. My Semblance is misfortune. Bad luck. Accidents.”

James is still looking at him, eyes still full of intensity. “What, so you used your Semblance to pin me to a building with a car?”

“No, but—”

“You used your Semblance on the driver, and I wasn’t supposed to get hit?”

_ “No, _ but—”

“Then how was this your fault?” James’s intense expression gives way to a slight smile.

“It’s passive, mostly,” Qrow mumbles. He curls into James’s side to avoid having to look him in the face. “Usually, when I’m drunk, it doesn’t act up. But I wasn’t drunk enough—you know I hadn’t been drinking as much. And I just… Whenever people get close to me, bad things happen. And I’ve been trying to make sure bad things don’t happen to you, but then—”

“Qrow, please look at me.”

Qrow doesn’t move.

“Please.”

Qrow sits up with a sigh. James is looking at him with vulnerability that Qrow hasn’t seen since… since. Well.

“Is that why you keep pushing me away?”

“I’m getting better,” Qrow says, but the confidence isn’t there. “I thought that maybe, if I could just start controlling it… And I was, I was learning, I was  _ trying, _ for once.”

James puts his flesh-and-blood left hand against Qrow’s cheek, runs his thumb along the stubble there. “I believe you,” he whispers.

Qrow closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

  * >•



Qrow is twenty-one, and he’s enjoying a good buzz. He’s been nursing the same glass of whiskey for the past hour. (He hasn’t been genuinely drunk in several months. No one talks about it, but he knows they’re proud of him anyway.)

The beer pong table got moved inside the frathouse before winter break. The January night is sharp, the cold air occasionally gusting in whenever someone goes outside to smoke, but it’s a welcome relief from the heat of people packed together.

Summer is playing, so there’s a crowd, of course. She never loses, after all: her eyes are too sharp to ever miscalculate a shot. Taiyang is good too, though; they’re both down to three cups each. Summer takes her shot and makes it with ease. Tai lines up to take his shot, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth adorably.

Qrow smirks a little. Tai makes his throw, but when he steps forward, his hip hits the edge of the table and knocks down the last of his own two cups. Summer laughs, puts her hands on her hips, and says, “Looks like I win on a technicality, huh?”

Tai turns and glares at Qrow, but there’s no heat behind his eyes. “You fucker!”

“Better luck next time,” Qrow laughs.

Tai’s glare turns into a pout as he shifts his gaze to James. “James, Jimmy, Jim-bo, my man,  _ please _ tell your boyfriend to stop cheating at beer pong.”

James laughs, slinging an arm low around Qrow’s hips. “You know semblances are allowed, Tai. No cheating occurred.”

“I know what my prize for winning will be!” Summer grins, grabbing Tai’s wrist and yanking him away. Suddenly, the man looks significantly less upset than he had been moments ago.

Qrow rolls his eyes. “I think Raven and them are planning on moving in together at the end of our lease,” he grumps. “They offered me to join them, but I definitely hear too much just living with Rae. I can’t imagine living with all three of them.”

“Hmm, sounds like you’ll have an open room in your apartment, then,” James hums, pulling Qrow tight against his side.

Qrow laughs, leaning into him. “Guess so. Any of your frat boys needing a place to live next year?” he teases.

James slides his arm from Qrow’s waist and down to tangle their fingers together. “Want me to walk you home?”

“Only if you’ll stay over.”

“Luck must be on your side, because I don’t ever plan on leaving.” James’s eyes glitter as he teases, “Not every day you find a guy willing to sleep with a cyborg, you know.”

“It is the burden I bear,” Qrow sighs dramatically. “Who else has fast enough reflexes to catch me every time I trip over an uneven sidewalk?”

“Hmm, probably Summer,” James muses.

“Shut up and take me home. I can’t believe I go out in public with you.”

“I love you too, Qrow.”

And James walks him home, helps him up the metal staircase, follows Qrow inside, doesn’t let go. And Qrow has never felt more fortunate.


End file.
